


The Transition Anthology

by TheSphinxDen



Series: The Transition Anthology [1]
Category: Tron: Uprising
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 15:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSphinxDen/pseuds/TheSphinxDen
Summary: A collection of shorts dedicated to exploring a program's life after the Grid's destruction.





	The Transition Anthology

The sizzling bubbles of dream-like images were not all completely unfamiliar to him, and even as an alien being he still dreamt. Programs called it “recharging” while Users, who believed by most programs to inhabit a higher plane of existence, called it “sleeping”. The process was indeed the same and the outcome familiar. 

These dreams, however, were new. Grander, more vivid. 

He could only recall a bright flash of hot-white light obliterating the world around him. The Grid. Platelets of hexagon exploded into a million shards of onyx black, the sea boiled into streams of code, and finally his own form was consumed. Yet, his mind was carried on some fierce and unnamable wind, moving between the voids of reality into something completely new. 

Though his digital vessel was gone, the algorithm of his very essence continued on. 

New visions arose. Purple and red and blue strings of information threaded themselves as fresh material, organic, muscle, blood, and bone. He could glimpse, for the first time, that his fingernails were slightly transparent against the red dawn of rebirth. Suspended within the cosmic womb of life, his algorithm flooded into the lacework of DNA, filling it up with his life, his very being. What were once numbers and symbols became the letters of protein strands, the molecules of red and white blood cells, brain synapses working their wild and primal functioning. He felt a deep connection with something, for the moment, that was completely unknown. A world covered in green matter, life springing forth from its mossy carpet, water flowing deep and shallow...

How such an overwhelming experience could not destroy a mind was unknown to him, but he survived and when he woke finally, found himself gazing into the eyes of a concerned woman. A halo of light seemed to radiate from her head, and it was only until his vision cleared that he could see a bright light above him, the light of a medical or science facility. A breath escaped him, and he gasped loudly. Though he felt no pain, the mental burden threatened to crush him. A thin sheet of blue was quickly tucked around his chest, and two nurses quietly checked his vital signs. 

“How are you feeling?” 

The strange woman’s voice carried a tone of deepness, a rumble of darkness in the blinding light of the hospital lamp. 

He blinked. Something thumped in his chest. What was it? An error in his processor? 

“How are you feeling?” She was leaned over closer now, her features more visible. She seemed to be of an indeterminate age, strangely youthful and mature simultaneously. 

He squinted and felt thin, pink-colored lips form words in place of where a vocal processor typically would. They felt blocky in his throat. 

“I’m…?” 

The woman nodded, smiling slightly. It was off, with one corner stretching further than the other. 

“Confusion is to be expected.” 

The two nurses at his side asked him questions. He squinted and mumbled through the entire process, slowly, successfully, gaining some form of clarity. 

“Height?” 

“6’2”. They replied back and forth to each other. 

“Hair color?” 

“Brown.” 

“Eye color?” 

“Blue.” 

“Weight?” 

“One-hundred and sixty two pounds.” 

Information once irrelevant suddenly filled his world. The strange woman leaned back to give him space. 

“What’s your name?” she asked, simply. He paused. His name. His identity. Was it gone? In this body, did it remain? Or must it be something completely new? 

 

 

“Tron.” 

It came from his lips but felt like a blade. There was heat on his tongue. 

“Tron?” The woman’s smile faded. 

“I’m sorry, but that’s not quite fitting. For now. We’ll have to assign you something different.” 

In a silent moment, he was being carted off to somewhere else. The gray hallways slid past him like a playthrough, a feedback loop. 

No, he thought tiredly. 

His name would always be Tron.


End file.
